The Battle of Atlanta / and Other Campaigns, Addresses, Etc.

by Grenville Mellen Dodge

The enemy, with the exception of a few skirmishers, then fell back to a ridge some half a mile distant, and commenced massing his force, as if preparing for a more determined attack. It was becoming dark, and I decided to withdraw unobserved, if possible, and conceal my command in a thicket some half a mile to our rear, there to lie in ambush and await his advance. In the meantime I had ordered Captain Milton Russell (Fifty-first Indiana) to take two hundred of the best-mounted men, selected from the whole command, and proceed to Rome, and hold the bridge until the main command could come up.

The engagement at Blount's plantation revealed the fact that nearly all of our remaining ammunition was worthless, on account of having been wet. Much of that carried by the men had become useless by the paper wearing out and the powder sifting away. It was in this engagement that the gallant Colonel Hathaway (Seventy-third Indiana) fell, mortally wounded, and in a few moments expired. Our country has seldom been called upon to mourn the loss of so brave and valuable an officer. His loss to me was irreparable. His men had almost worshiped him, and when he fell it cast a deep gloom of despondency over his regiment which was hard to overcome.

We remained in ambush but a short time when the enemy, who by some means had learned of our whereabouts, commenced a flank movement, which we discovered in time to check. I then decided to withdraw as silently as possible, and push on in the direction of Rome, but as a large number of the men were dismounted, their animals having given out, and the remainder of the stock was so jaded, tender-footed, and worn down, our progress was necessarily slow; yet, as everything depended on our reaching Rome before the enemy could throw a sufficient force there to prevent our crossing the bridge, every possible effort was made to urge the command forward. We proceeded without interruption until we reached the vicinity of Centre, when one of my scouts informed me that a force of the enemy was posted in ambush but a short distance in our front. I immediately threw forward a line of skirmishers, with orders to proceed until they were fired upon, when they should open a brisk fire on the enemy, and hold their position until the command had time to pass.

The plan worked admirably, for, while my skirmishers were amusing the enemy, the main column made a detour to the right, and struck the main road some three miles to the rear of the enemy. As soon as our main force had passed, the skirmishers withdrew and fell in the rear of the column. I was then hopeful that we could reach Rome before the enemy could overtake us. My principal guide had thus far proved reliable, and I had made particular inquiries of him as to the character of the road and the country the evening before, and he assured me that there were no difficult streams to cross and that the road was good; hence we approached the Chattanooga River at the ferry without any information as to the real condition of things. Captain Russell had managed to ferry the last of his command across about one hour previous to my arrival, but the enemy had seized and run off the boat before we reached there.

I then ascertained that there was a bridge some seven or eight miles up the river, near Gaylesville, and procured new guides and pushed on as rapidly as possible in order to reach the bridge before the enemy should take possession of it. We had to pass over an old coal-chopping for several miles, where the timber had been cut and hauled off for charcoal, leaving innumerable wagon-roads running in every direction, and the command was so worn out and exhausted that many were asleep, and in spite of every exertion I could make, with the aid of such of my officers as were able for duty, the command became separated and scattered into several squads, traveling in different directions, and it was not until near daylight that the last of the command had crossed the river. The bridge was burned, and we proceeded on and passed Cedar Bluff just after daylight. It now became evident that the horses and mules could not reach Rome without halting to rest and feed. Large numbers of the mules were continually giving out. In fact, I do not think that at that time we had a score of the mules drawn at Nashville left, and nearly all of those taken in the country were barefooted, and many of them had such sore backs and tender feet that it was impossible to ride them; but, in order to get as near as possible to the force I had sent ahead, we struggled on until about 9 a. m. when we halted and fed our animals. The men, being unaccustomed to riding, had become so exhausted from fatigue and loss of sleep that it was almost impossible to keep them awake long enough to feed. We had halted but a short time, when I was informed that a heavy force of the enemy was moving on our left, on a route parallel with the one we were marching on, and was then nearer Rome than we were. About the same time I received this information our pickets were driven in. The command was immediately ordered into line, and every effort made to rally the men for action, but nature was exhausted, and a large portion of my best troops actually went to sleep while lying in line of battle under a severe skirmish-fire. After some maneuvering, Forrest sent in a flag of truce, demanding the surrender of my forces. Most of my regimental commanders had already expressed the opinion that, unless we could reach Rome and cross the river before the enemy came up with us again, we should be compelled to surrender. Consequently, I called a council of war. I had learned, however, in the meantime that Captain Russell had been unable to take the bridge at Rome. Our condition was fully canvassed. As I have remarked before, our ammunition was worthless, our horses and mules in a desperate condition, the men were overcome with fatigue and loss of sleep, and we were confronted by fully three times our number, in the heart of the enemy's country, and, although personally opposed to surrender, and so expressed myself at the time, yet I yielded to the unanimous voice of my regimental commanders, and at once entered into negotiations with Forrest to obtain the best possible terms I could for my command, and at about noon, May 3, we surrendered as prisoners of war.

We were taken to Richmond, Va. The men were soon sent through the lines and exchanged. My officers and myself were confined in Libby Prison, where we remained until the night of February 9 last, when four of my officers and myself, together with several other prisoners, succeeded in making our escape, and reached Washington in safety about March 1. The balance of my officers, or nearly all of them, are still confined as prisoners or have died of disease the result of long confinement, insufficient food, and cruel treatment at the hands of the enemy.

I am unable to report the exact number of casualties in the command, but from the best information I have been able to obtain there were fifteen officers and about one hundred and thirty enlisted men killed and wounded. It was a matter of astonishment to all that so much fighting should occur with so few casualties on our side; but we acted purely on the defensive, and took advantage of the nature of the country as best we could. From actual personal observation where we had driven the enemy from the field, and from what my surgeons, left with our wounded, learned in relation to the loss of the enemy, I am convinced that we killed more of his men than we lost in both killed and wounded.

Previous to the surrender, we had captured and paroled about two hundred prisoners, and had lost about the same number in consequence of the animals giving out, and the men, unable to keep up, broke down from exhaustion, and were necessarily picked up by the enemy; but in no case was the enemy able to capture a single man in any skirmish or battle within my knowledge.

I deem it proper to mention the barbarous treatment my wounded received at the hands of the enemy. Owing to the nature of the service we were performing, we were compelled to leave our wounded behind. I provided for them as best I could by leaving them blankets and such rations as we had, and two of my surgeons remained behind to attend them; but no sooner did the enemy get possession of our hospitals than they robbed both officers and men of their blankets, coats, hats, boots, shoes, rations, and money. The medical stores and instruments were taken from the surgeons, and my wounded left in a semi-naked and starving condition, in some instances many miles from any inhabitants, to perish.

Many thanks to the Union ladies of that country, for they saved many a brave soldier from a horrible death.